


Christmas presents

by Lilyrain



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bonfires, Christmas, Christmas Party, Christmas Presents, Drinking, Fluff, Past Christmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 21:04:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9024949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilyrain/pseuds/Lilyrain
Summary: Christmas in space is nothing special, but it's not everyday both Bellamy and his sister were fed, so he supposes it might be everything. Christmas on the ground, well that's special because of his Co-Leader.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas :)

Christmas had never meant much to Bellamy. It was difficult enough to survive the daily obstacles of being in space with barely enough food for two people, much less three. The only thing he could remember about Christmas day was that he was always fed. An older lady, Miss Kane, would save up her extra rations and hold a dinner in the common rooms. He had heard that on each day of that week, she was at a different station with her food. She invited everyone, but usually only kids came. Despite his efforts, Miss Kane wouldn’t let him take the food and leave. So every Christmas, he ate.

Not eating was something he started doing when Octavia was born. In the weeks after the birth, Aurora had been very week. He didn’t even think before giving her half his rations. “No boy, you need to grow. You have to eat to grow.” She had protested, but only two days later taken the food he offered. He hadn’t known it until he was much older, but without the food he gave her she would have never made enough milk to keep Octavia alive. When his sister got older and he realized she wouldn’t get her own rations, he once again gave his food away without a second thought. His mother had told him to always feed his sister out of her portions, but he very quickly noted his mother wilting away, so he traded the days when he took food from his own. It was a common occurrence in the two older Blake’s, to bypass food in favor of feeding another. By twelve he knew three certainties about food; There is never enough, growing girls eat a lot, and you never get used to being hungry.

But on Christmas, he always got to eat. He, by far wasn’t the only hungry and cold kid on the ark, but as far as he knew he was the only one feeding a sister. The other kids on his station were loud. They wrecked havoc and tried to cause as much trouble as possible. He was a quiet kid, something he long wished Octavia would inherit (she didn’t). He could easily sit in the commons and eat his fill whilst the other kids ran and sang silly songs. The actual date of Christmas was lost to them, but December 3rd was Miss Kane’s dinner on factory station. The carols, as she called them, were from an old movie on the archives. There were only two, one about bells and on about a reindeer with a red nose. He hadn’t liked music all that much, but on his first dinner he learned the songs to repeat for Octavia.

Miss Kane asked him one Christmas, when he was about fourteen, if he would help clean up afterwards. Octavia had been difficult that day, begging him to take her outside of their little apartment. Just once, for Christmas she had pleaded, pulling on his hand as tears ran down her face. Just this one Christmas, no one will notice at the dinner. He had held her, apologizing until she fell asleep. He snuck out once his mother arrived and got to dinner late, much later than he ever had before.

He wanted to get back to Octavia, but it would be rude to tell Miss Kane no, especially since she fed everyone today. He nodded, adding a yes ma’am when he remembered too. She smiled kindly and began asking everyone who wasn’t helping clean up to leave. A few older kids had stayed to help, and they worked in mostly silence. Two of them chatted idly, one hummed softly, and another took to singing loudly and slightly off key. After a little, Miss Kane declared them done, asking them all over to the table she had been working on. There was food on the table, leftovers, he realized. Never in his life had Bellamy seen leftovers. She gave them to the six kids helping, splitting them equally and sending them on their way. It was just a little less than one meal ration, but it brought the biggest smile to Bellamy’s face. After thanking her vigorously, he raced back to the apartment he called home. For the first time ever, he had gotten a Christmas gift, so like everything good he had ever gotten his hands on, he gave it to his little sister. She smiled, eyes still red from crying, and thanked him. He made her sing the carol with him, the one she had grown to call stupid. And for the first time, both siblings went to bed without being hungry.

Christmas changed a little after that. He always went and ate Miss Kane’s communal dinner, but after that he always came home with food. Sometimes there was even enough to give his mother some, which she accepted with a tired smile and small thank you. Christmas wasn’t a big deal for the Blake’s, or anyone on the Ark for that matter. But he always remembers Christmas as the day they all ate. It was good to see his sister eating and not feel the pit of hungry and envy. And a day like that kept him going for another year and somehow, that made it mean the world to him. 

 

  
Christmas was different on the ground. Ever since he started working with Clarke instead of against her, they had had enough food for everyone everyday. Even now, in the beginnings of winter, they had more than enough food stored to hold them out. A kid named Sterling had taken care to count the days, informing them all one morning it was December 1st, declaring it Christmas day. The kids had taken the day to heart.

Jasper and Monty made moonshine with mint in it, and Clarke and Octavia set out furs by the bonfire and a crudely made table full of food, enough for everybody to have seconds. It was a party, he realized as everyone finished work and began congregating. He was a little angry no one told him, and that Clarke didn’t talk to him about it first. But his little sister was smiling a big, lopsided smile and Clarke’s laugh rang out, he just couldn’t find it in him to be anything but happy.

A few hours into the festivities, mainly drinking and storytelling and, his person favorite, eating, found Bellamy sitting on a fur starring at the fire. He’s had more to drink then he usually lets himself, and for the first time on the ground he is fully and truly drunk. They’ve made a dance floor, which is just the ground turned purple by some weird flower nectar Clarke claims works as ink. How they got that much of it to throw on the ground is beyond him.

He’s just about resigned himself to make the stumbling walk to his tent when he feels someone sit next to him. He’s a decently bitter drunk, no doubt scowling at the world, who would dare take a seat next to him? Somehow he’s not surprised to turn and see Clarke. She’s staring into the fire, brow creased the way it does when she’s thinking too hard. Surely she has better things to do then sit next to him thinking. He makes a noise to get her attention but she just gives him a half smile, barely meeting his eyes, before turning back to the fire and tilting her head thoughtfully. Concerned, he takes a moment to compose his next sentence.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks, his voice coming out rough from the burning alcohol. Her head snaps up, her eyes widen a little and her lips part. His eyes get pulled to her lips as they move, the pink flesh glistening with moonshine. The tip of her tongue peaks out of her mouth to lick her lips. Unwillingly his eyes follow the motions. She makes a noise, something between a hum and a cough, dragging his attention away from her perfect lips.

Meeting her eyes, he realized she had said something and was waiting for a response. “Sorry.” He mumbles before clearing his throat, which had somehow, became very dry. “I said I have something for you.” She says reluctantly, arms crossing over her chest. He has to physically force his eyes to stay away from the motion, so far he’s done a very good job not starring at her rack and Christmas or not, he’s keeping to his streak. He smiles shyly, “What is it?” He asks, brain catching up to her words, the speed of which something he’s blaming on the drink.

“I didn’t, I don’ want to give it to you out here. You know with, people.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it, and he can see a blush rising on her cheeks that he knows isn’t from the alcohol. He’s smiling again, and as Raven’s fireworks go off, he remembers the day and he can’t stop his next question, “Does that mean Clarke Griffin got me a Christmas present?”

The blush is definitely on her cheeks now. Her lips pout, he swears he doesn’t want to take it between his teeth, and she huffs a breath. He has to admit slightly embarrassed Clarke is cute. He wouldn’t usually use cute to describe Clarke considering she’s terrifying most day and downright sinfully hot. But this, her blushing and shy, it’s cute. Reaching out he grabs her arm gently, waiting until she meets his eyes to speak, “Then lets go.”

He doesn’t know how many people watch them leave, but he does know what it looks like. His hand had slipped down when they stood up, taking her hand in his. He’s planning on blaming the moonshine, but she doesn’t comment on it. She takes him to a tent on the outskirts of the camp. He occurs to him that he’s never seen Clarke’s tent, he had kind of assumed she lived in the dropship. Why the hell was it way out here? She should be at least by the place her patients are. She’s his co-leader, she should be near the center, near him. And why is it so fucking small? Tents were one of the first things they made, he recalls, back when he hated her. He feels a pang of guilt as they enter the shelter. It’s not even a little warm, and the only thing there’s even room for is the thin pallet and small box.

She lets go of his hand and bends down to open the box. He’d like to say he doesn’t check out her ass, but he can’t. “Here” She says, turning and handing him a parcel wrapped in some torn cloth. He sits on the bed, feeling her eyes staring at him as he opens it. The first thing he finds is a drawing, it’s him and Octavia sitting by a campfire. His hands are midair, eyes bright as what looks like he tells a story. Octavia is watching him closely, something he’d like to call admiration in her eyes. He’s already tearing up a little as he set it beside him and looks at the next picture.

This one has the kids. He can see the dropship behind them, each one grinning widely facing away from it. Raven is off to the side, leaning against her pod. Jasper’s holding up a batch of moonshine proudly, Monty and Octavia next to him with cups in hand. But what really gets him is that he Clarke and standing next to each other, sitting atop a ledge of the dropship. She’s smiling too, but unlike everyone else she’s looking at him instead of forward. He looks up at her, and opens his mouth to thank her but she cuts him off, “There’s more.”

The last thing in the package is a book. Since they’ve been on the ground they’ve found and raided several bunkers, but things like books aren’t often found. When they are, it’s finder’s keepers. The title reads The Rise and Fall of Rome. He doesn’t remember ever telling Clarke about his thing for ancient Rome, or anyone for that matter. He looks up at her, unable to speak. He’s never gotten a Christmas present before, but he knows without a doubt this is the best. “You said you named you sister.” She says as she motions towards the book, “Octavia was-“

“Augustus’ sister.” He finished. She smiles a little, blushing even more. He sets the book down on the drawing and stands in front of her. “Thank you.” He whispers before wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. He knows he’d never have the courage to do this sober, but she got him a fucking Christmas present. She’s warm in his arms, despite the cold. He hates himself for thinking about the way she feels pressed against him. But even through the layers on clothing he can tell she’s perfect, that she fits perfectly.

“Merry Christmas Bellamy.” She whispers into his chest. “Merry Christmas Clarke.” He mutters back. He leaves shorty after that, unable forget the feeling of her in his arms. He pins the drawing on the side of his table and settles into bed with a lamp and the book. “Merry Christmas.” He whispers to himself before opening it. Christmas never meant much on the ark, but on the ground he can admit he loves it. He silently swears to get Clarke something, even if it’s a week late. He’ll be damned if he doesn’t make her feel as special as she made him feel.

Christmas, he decides, is his favorite day of the year, in the sky or on the ground.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm honestly ify about this so it might get deleted.


End file.
